Hatred is Hard to Hold
by Cooking Spray
Summary: Musings from Filia's POV on the battle with Valgaav and on love and hate in general... Strong Xel/Fil hints, and some philosophical ponderings. A one-shot.


****

Hatred is Hard to Hold

by Cooking Spray

Wow, something I usually don't do. A one shot! So the quality's good ^_^ I'm getting too philosophical over here, beware. But I'm all proud. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, nothing's mine. Just the plot.

7/10/03- Reposted with minor grammar and formatting mistakes corrected, as well as a conflict concerning a missing event. New content added to resolve this error.

~*~*~*~*~

What is hatred? The definition shifts and contorts through the sands of time, through eyes of generations. It has no balance, no definite form. You think you harbor it, and then it slips like water through your fingers, absorbed by the ground of which levels us all. And our hands soon dry in the sun. Yes, hatred is hard to hold.

Not the blackest twilight, not the purest sunshine, not the strongest power can conquer the world. Instead, if we look into each of us, the answer lies inside our very being. Yes, indeed, love conquers all.

Love is powerful and sudden, gentle and timely, rapturous and compelling. It binds us all, an undeniable force, to which we are all rendered helpless beneath. Love knows no evil, knows no beauty, knows not even fame or fortune, right or wrong. It knows only that it is pure and true despite those who share it. Love is truly blind.

And though civilizations may crumble and be buried in the stream of time, generations pass away and build, rebuild, and build again, there is one thing that will bind us all: Love. It is all that there was, is, and ever will be. Love is truly eternal.

I know. It came to me, as sudden as a rogue breeze, and then left me softly, as warm as the sun. A feeling timeless and mellowed through the years, yet as brilliant as the moment I first knew it. And all of the time I smiled...

****

~*~*~*~*~

I was so naive in those days, the days of travel, seriousness a guise shed until the moment of battle. I was young and fierce, in my prime, idealistic and full of purpose, self important in the righteousness of my holy being. I wouldn't mind going back, to savor the memory a little, to chuckle at my past. Indeed, it was the quest, that, in subtle ways only apparent to me over the span of time after its completion, changed my life.

My youthful eyes trembled, glossy with tears that were unsure for which cause to fall. My whole being was waiting, every muscle tensed. _Which cause did my teachings, to which a priestess must be faithful, will me to support? _This was hardest of all to abide. Emotions work in queer ways. _What if your heart went against those teachings? Did you follow it? _

My own heart seized, I was being wrenched in two directions. Guttural, almost painful to my ears, so much so I even cringed, screams of pain rebounded off of the walls around me. I helplessly watched his features contort to extremes that tore me apart. I was frozen, my body was paralyzed. _I was the one in the middle, who could do nothing to help anyone. _My very touch would tip the scales. I ached with the burden of sight, wanting to turn away from the images, but compelled to watch the horror unfold before me. _And I could do nothing..._

A man, one who could have never been a child in all of his thousands of lifetimes, stood in the center of the scene. His eyes blazed with an unreadable fire, his smirk laced with malice. Terrible, terrible laughter intermingled with the screams, rising in my veins so surely I believed my head would split. _Wouldn't it end?..._

A slightly gnarled staff, always his weapon of choice, plunged into the skin of another, and they convulsed in raw pain as it furrowed deeper. Blood, oh, horrible blood, gleamed red on its tip as he twisted it further into the flesh, flowing with shocking fluidity. And he was _enjoying _it, enjoying every wretched moment, growing stronger and more intense as the victim vainly screeched. My mind warped horribly, just taking it all in, flip-flopping and relapsing as I tried to regain my senses. I felt like screaming myself, but once again I was rendered helpless. _This was his profession._

I watched on, to a little of my relief the bloodbath ended, the victim at last seizing the upper hand. A blow struck above me, rocks threatening my demise had _he _not decided to rescue me. I was in his arms for a moment, heart thudding, but for the shock of my close brush with death or with his body I dare not say. And then again I was on the ground, a piece of human artillery! But of course he would do anything to gain the upper hand. My foolish temper like a flare, angry words spewed from my lips at him, and I momentarily forgot my circumstances. Funny, really, how he always banished the pressing from mind... 

But still the dreaded waiting lingered. I could not relax, could not stop. The battle took to the skies again, brutal and unrelenting. My breath, however ragged and uneven it had came before, halted in my chest. The final chord of suspense had been struck. My vision failed me, I could bear it no longer. And then-

A victor had been determined. Relief washed over me, and my breath returned. But only in partial. It was over, my power to aid returned to me. I rushed over to the one who had lost, who needed me most, their name lighting my lips. For once my Ryuuzoku identity didn't get in my way.

Everything had halted, for the time being, and no matter the circumstances I would feel strong and willing, the anxiousness obliterated. 

I was ordered to take him away from there. If the circumstances hadn't been so demanding of it, I would have protested. But I was a new Filia. Exposed to me were the imperfections of my race, buried by those in whom I held my utmost trust. They were murderers. My people. So my hands were tarnished, a little, if not as much as the Mazoku in question. No two people are too different in this world, I believe. I had a new destiny, a new path to conquer. I must face my own inner demons. 

_Everyone has a purpose, in this small Earth. It is set out before us, and we are born into it without our choosing... It just so happens that mine is one that is good. But what if it hadn't been? What if I had been born into a different life? I would take it with no qualms..._

We are what we are. And that you must accept.

And surely, I lifted his bruised body upon my own good one, knowing what I did was right more clearly than ever before. And I grasped the staff, still stained in the blood my own hands were splattered in, and helped _both _of us away, determination rising like fire in my soul.

"I never imagined... you'd be helping me... Filia..."

_I never did, either, until now._

I eased both of us down, feeling more compassionate than ever to the Mazoku. He was helpless, relatively. Actually feeling sorry for him, I tentatively took his hand in my own beneath my breast. _He, who almost single-handedly annihilated my race. My people, the same flesh and blood as I._

But I still stand. And though countless of my kind lie in their graves because of him, I don't fear him. It is not me, personally, who should hold a grudge. I leave that to those who were cheated of their lives. We all have a path; he was merely following his.

Realization in me like a flood, I felt almost with new purpose in life. I watched the battle about to begin, the willingness to do whatever was needed within me. I was strong. The warmth of the body I supported somehow furthered this resoluteness. My heart fluttered. I felt his dark presence, like I, as a Ryuuzoku, always would, yet somehow it didn't agitate me as it had before.

His head, so close to my own, was limp; he was obviously in pain. _I can't take your suffering away, but I will guide you through it. _I smiled, and we were whisked away by the teleport, where the true battle would begin. And at that moment, I knew I didn't hate him anymore. I was ready. To face down the own demons in my past.

_I left your side, but you were there with me._

I stood proud and strong, accepting of what I was, of the burden I carried. And as my feet carried me toward battle, knowing not if I would escape with my life, I was not afraid. I had to undo what should have been undone years ago.

And somewhere, I thought I saw your smile in the shadows, that familiar, sly grin. And your voice, coaching me on my way: "Show them, Filia, what my dragon can do."

And that was all I needed to push me forward.

****

~*~*~*~*~

So you see, hatred is hard to hold.

Loving is much easier.


End file.
